Brandy
by Malady Pond
Summary: To have your home and family back, to what lengths would you go? There's a woman who'll stop at nothing to be with her darling Rumpelstiltskin once more, and no one will stand in her way. Rated M for non-explicit situations, some violence. Rum/OFC
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: All right, dearies. Here I go, trying my hand at a __Once Upon A Time__ fic. First off, I must say that I am vehemently anti-Rumbelle. Maybe it's just in my nature to be a bit of a villain myself. I have a tendency to dislike the ships that are terribly popular._

_I must also admit that I have not watched the show in quite some time. I loved the first season, greatly enjoyed the second, but left about the time they went to Neverland. (I just felt like they were trying to do too much, you know?) I started watching again when they announced the Wicked Witch would be joining the cast of characters, but I quit watching again when they showed that preview with Dorothy Gale. And I haven't watched since._

_I did, however, catch this one scene where Belle banished Rumpelstiltskin from Storybrooke, and this gave me an idea for a story. It was an accident that I saw it as my mum was catching up on a couple of episodes she'd missed. (She's still an ardent fan of the show, in general.)_

I always knew I didn't like Belle. Well, maybe she wouldn't be so bad if she would stop trying to force Rumpelstiltskin/Mr Gold/The Dark One to be what she wants him to be. Seriously, girl, that's not what love's about.

_*shoulders slump* See, this is exactly why I didn't want to write a OUAT fic. I was just going to write my own version of a modernised fairy tale and publish it rather than risk bashing Belle. (And I like the actress just fine; she plays the character beautifully. It's the actual character I'm not keen on.)_

_Enough of that, eh? Let's get to the story. The first couple of chapters start off a bit slowly, setting things up, but it'll get less confusing as it goes on. This takes place moments after Belle banished Rumpelstiltskin from Storybrooke. This is my own take on things and disregards much of canon events after the first two seasons. Consider this an AU or an AT, whichever you prefer._

Belle stumbled back from the town border. She had done it. She had actually done it. She had banished the man she loved from Storybrooke.

Her hand fluttered up to her heart. Yes, it was still there, still beating. He was there, just beyond the veil between the town and the rest of the world, screaming her name. She still had the dagger clutched in her hand. Could she still -

No. She had to be strong. There was a way to save everyone, and she would help in any way she could.

* * *

><p>Belle wasn't watching where she was going. She had slept fitfully, and she still felt as though she were walking through a fog.<p>

"Belle?" She was vaguely aware of someone calling her name. "Belle, are you all right?"

_'Would you be all right if you'd done what I did last night?'_ she silently asked.

It was the hand on her shoulder that brought her out of her stupor. "Oh! Sorry, Zilarha! I'm - I've got a lot on my mind right now."

Zilarha nodded. "Of course. With everything happening, we're all . . . Anyway, I was coming to see you about a potion."

"Um, y-yeah." She forced a smile. "Sure. Something good, I hope."

"Well, it's something new." She pushed her auburn hair away from her face. "And I wanted to talk to you about . . . but I'll understand if you don't - That is . . . Let's wait until we're inside, eh?"

Belle remained silent for the few minutes it to took to reach the shop's door. A whimper escaped her when she surveyed the things that were hers now. Could she really handle all of this on her own?

Yes, she told herself. She had to. She had done it before, however briefly. But that was back when he had trusted her. Things were different now.

"All right, then. What is it you'll be needing?" Belle asked with false cheer.

"A small vial of tincture of starlight, petals of the moonbeam, dust of the twinkleberry, and some Earl Grey."

"Earl Grey?"

Zilarha grinned. "I did say I wanted to talk, remember?"

Belle pursed her lips. "Right. I'll just put the kettle on, then."

While she busied herself in the small kitchen, Zilarha glanced around at the trinkets and artifacts. With the master gone, these would be unprotected. So much magick, just waiting to be used . . .

"Cream and sugar, yes?" Belle called through the archway.

"Yes, please." Perusing the tools would have to wait for another time. But she'd soon have exactly what she needed.

The two women sat at a table nestled in a small alcove.

"There's so much here. How do you keep track of it all?" Zilarha asked before sipping her tea.

"Oh, Mr G- Rumpelstiltskin has a method for record-keeping that . . ." She looked down at her cup.

"Belle? What's happened?" she asked softly.

"He's gone." And it all came spilling out of her. The promise he'd made to save her, his declaration of love, his admission that he craved the power that came from being the Dark One, right up to the moment she'd banished him. "He's gone. I don't know where he'll go or what he'll do now. I still have the dagger," she admitted huskily.

Zilarha reached her hand out to pat Belle's. "There, there. Everything will be fine."

_'I've heard that before, but where?'_

"Besides, isn't it better this way? With us here, working on saving everyone, and him, out there, working for the same thing?"

"H-how c-can y- How can you say that?! I loved him!"

"Did you? Did you, really?"

Belle nodded emphatically. "Yes! I loved the man behind the beast!"

"Beh-" She chuckled mirthlessly. "You never knew the man he was. All you ever knew _was_ the beast. The Dark One. Had you known who he was before, you . . . Well, there's really only one way to know for sure." She shook her head as though she pitied the other woman. "You don't have the courage to do it."

"Courage to do what?"

"To see who he was before the Ogre War changed him. Or revealed his true character. If you saw that," she tilted her head and regarded her curiously. "Would you still claim to love the man behind the beast?"


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Zilarha has a plan to get them all back to the Enchanted Forest. But at what cost?_

"To see who he was before the Ogre War changed him. Or revealed his true character. If you saw that," she tilted her head and regarded her curiously. "Would you still claim to love the man behind the beast?"

Belle was speechless.

Zilarha waved a hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter now, of course. We'll all either perish here or return home." She sighed. "Home. It seems like just yesterday . . . but so long ago and far away . . . I have what I came for. If the potion works, we'll all be protected for the journey. If it doesn't, Regina's got - She always has a Plan B. Toodle-oo, dearie."

* * *

><p>Zilarha flexed her fingers and began playing a simple tune on her lyre. The potion in her small cauldron bubbled and smouldered. It began to glow pink. She sang the words of the spell. The smoke turned red.<p>

She grinned. It had worked.

* * *

><p>That evening, Belle found herself strolling down an unfamiliar street. She who prided herself on knowing every inch of Storybrooke, every storefront, every intersection, was lost.<p>

Maybe she was still upset over what had happened with Rumpelstiltskin. Maybe it was that conversation she'd had with Zilarha.

"How can this be?" she murmured. A sudden breeze chilled her, and her thick coat did little to shield her from it. "Where am I?"

"Fancy meeting you here," Zilarha greeted. "Would you like to come in? I was just sitting down to dinner, if you'd care to join me."

"That - that would be lovely. Thank you. I'm not sure how I wound up in this part of town," she explained as she removed her coat. The heat from the hearth was terribly inviting, and the aroma of freshly baked bread was too welcoming to turn down the offer.

Zilarha shrugged. "I'm afraid it's the -" She fluttered her hands about. "That bizarre spell's making things go all wibbly-wobbly, shifty-wifty. Too much magick, fighting for dominance in a world where it shouldn't exist. Not all of it at once, anyway. On the upside, that potion we were working on proved true."

"P-potion?"

"Yeah. The protection elixir. The melody of melancholic wonder. Remember?"

"Oh, yes, of course. The potion. This all looks wonderful. Shire puddings?"

"Mm-hmm. I always seem to make too much, but then someone turns up at my door. Would you like some wine? Or tea? I could put the kettle on."

"No, no. Wine is fine. After what's been going on, I could use some wine. Merlot, is it?" she asked as she swirled the dark liquid in her glass.

"Burgundy, actually. I was saving it for . . . well . . . a special occasion, but I guess that's - What could be more special than going home soon?"

Belle drained her glass. "Yeah. Home. Mmm. I can see why you'd want this wine for a special occasion. And this bread is delicious! If I had to get lost, I'm glad I wound up at your door."

Zilarha smiled back at her. "So'm I. And don't worry. He'll find a way home, too."

* * *

><p>The wine had done its work, and Belle was resting comfortably in Zilarha's parlour. The sky was cloudy as she made her way to Gold's shop, and the few people not indoors scarcely even noticed her.<p>

_'I'll keep the lights down. Don't want to attract much attention. Just get what you need and go. There'll be time for the rest later,'_ she reminded herself as she gathered things into her cloak's pockets. There were too many crystals to risk taking them all at once; only a few of them were necessary for what she had in mind. The sachets of herbs were a treasure trove, lying there for the taking, but she pocketed only those she needed for this spell. And the hand mirrors would be lovely in her home, but there was one in particular that would be of use to her on this night.

"Don't worry, Rum. We'll be together again soon. I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

_*smiles in appreciation of the people who have read and stuck with this fic thus far*_

_In the Enchanted Forest, many years ago_

"It's just over a few more hills until we're there," Rumpelstiltskin called back, his breath becoming a bit more laboured as he trudged the uneven terrain.

The woman trailing behind him huffed out a breath. "I still don't understand why we couldn't just zap ourselves there."

He waited for her to catch up to him. "I told you, my dear, it is protected by a magick different from ours. We couldn't even get _this_ close without being detected unless we'd suppressed our powers."

She sighed but said nothing. Her boots were muddied, her hair was matted, and she was tired. Too tired to argue over this anymore. She had no choice but to follow him; it was either that or leave him.

And she couldn't walk away from him so easily.

Hours later, they'd reached the river. The song of the current was soothing, but it was meant to lure magickal beings to their doom. She could sense that immediately. Without the temporary suppression of their powers, the two of them might have succumbed to the trap. Instead, they made their way through the foliage to the riverbank and began examining the patterns in the dark, fertile soil.

She pointed at a seashell a few steps away. He nodded. It appeared to be near the water, yet something shimmered right above it. The temptation to retrieve the lovely trinket was great. They would have to tread carefully here.

"DARK ONE," a voice boomed from the cavern to their left. "DID YOU TRULY BELIEVE YOU COULD SHIELD YOURSELF FROM MY EYES?"

Grey eyes met golden, and they both realised they'd have to avoid experiencing strong emotions while they were here.

When they reached the entrance to the cavern, a rolling countryside expanded ahead of them. Light from an unseen source illuminated the impossible scene. The castle became visible. Blue-capped towers of white marble jutted majestically towards a pristine sky dotted with cottony clouds. Windows sparkled as though cut from the clearest of diamonds.

Rumpelstiltskin clutched his companion's hand in his and kissed her thumb for luck. They would need it while they faced the Witch of the Spring.

* * *

><p>The shackles were cutting into her wrists. Her fingers had gone numb. She had not spoken in all the hours Beryl had questioned her. Despite the threats of torture, she had remained calm. Hunger and lack of sleep, however, were making her unsure of the passage of time. Her own name was fuzzy in her head. What would happen to her if she died here? Would the Witch of the Spring drown her before that could happen? Or would she wait until the suppression potion wore off so she could drain the Grey Warrior's powers?<p>

"Get in there," a guard spat as he shoved Rumpelstiltskin into the dank cell. The door slammed behind him, plunging them back into shadows.

He curled up on the cold stones. His clothes were torn. There was blood along his sleeves and caked in his hair. He shook his head, warning her not to make a sound. She blinked once to acknowledge that she understood.

All either of them could do was wait.

The following morning, Beryl sauntered into their prison. Her pastel gown swished, its colours coalescing from shades of bright blue to whispers of pale green. It clashed with the dreariness of the dungeon, but she seemed to enjoy standing out like that.

"Well, well. Have my two guests found the accommodations to their liking?" she asked, her voice echoing off the stone walls.

The Grey Warrior imagined snowflakes drifting towards a field of heather.

The Witch of the Spring frowned slightly. No one had managed to remain so utterly neutral in her presence before! _'Is it possible that she is the - No, no. She couldn't be.'_

A rumbling beneath the floor shook them all.

"N- It's not time yet! THIS IS NOT POSSIBLE!" the Witch of the Spring shrieked up at the heavens before she was engulfed in a layer of ice and frost.

The Grey Warrior glanced at Rumpelstiltskin, hoping confusion wasn't a strong emotion, and was relieved to see him rise. He snapped his fingers and the shackles dissolved. She dropped to the floor, still woozy from Beryl's treatment.

A small cloud of damp dust flew up when she fell, prompting her to cough. It only made her dizzier.

"Come on, then, Grizelda. With her frozen, we should be able to get what we came for."

"Wh- came for . . ." she murmured. Her vision became blurry, then everything went black.

* * *

><p><em>Storybrooke<em>

Zilarha slowly turned the distaff. In the days before the spinning wheel, a distaff and spindle were necessary for turning a material into weavable strands.

In her mind, she spoke to Rumpelstiltskin, offering him words of comfort. She didn't think of how he'd betrayed her; that was a simple misunderstanding. Instead, she thought of how he'd protected her from those lecherous guardsmen in her old homeland.

He had been so dashing and powerful, it had taken her breath away. And then he'd swept her into his arms and taken her to his castle, far away from the pain she'd always known.

This time, she would rescue him. With his help, surely they could turn back time and unweave the curses that had kept them apart for so long.

She gazed at the spindle held so securely in her hand and smiled; glittery strands of silver were wound upon it. "Perfect," she whispered into the shadows of her bedroom. "No one will suspect what this really is."

She glided downstairs to check on her guest. A whimper sounded from the fainting couch.

"There, there. You're safe, Belle. Simply looking through a window at a day long ago," Zilarha murmured. She adjusted the blanket she'd knitted for her over the sleeping woman's form and willed her to see the day Rumpelstiltskin was first humiliated.

"R-" Belle wanted to call out to him, but she was swallowed by people milling about the marketplace. There he was, being shoved by a soldier.

Confusion contorted her features. Why wasn't he fighting back? Why didn't he stand up and say something? Anything? He was just kneeling there, grovelling and shivering in the mud. This couldn't be right. This couldn't actually be him.

"Please," he gasped up at the guard. "All I want -"

"Is irrelevant!" the guard sneered. "Kiss my boot."

Belle took a step forward, but a hand grabbed her wrist to stop her. The face of the person preventing her from interfering was shielded by a hood.

"I have to help him," she whispered insistently.

The other person merely shook her head. At least, Belle thought it was a woman. The cloak made it difficult to tell.

"You will only bring pain if you do."

Belle thought back to all the times she'd tried to help Rumpelstiltskin and failed. She'd kissed him with the hope that True Love's Kiss would let him let go of the Dark One's power, but he'd rejected it, rejected _her_. Her attempt to run his shop had not been entirely successful, and he'd had to rearrange his shelves to undo the mixing of magickal items she'd inadvertently wrought. Even when she was merely his servant, nothing she'd done had ever been precisely as he'd wanted.

But now she could see who he'd been before he was the Dark One, and she wasn't sure if -

No, she told herself. She would find a way to help him now. After the guards left him, she would help him to his feet and clean him up and offer him words of encouragement. He had been a good man once, and he could be again.

Belle would remind him of that.


	4. Chapter 4

_Happy New Year, dearies._

_Candyluver2121: Thank you! I was long worried about people who ship RumBelle hating me for writing an anti-R/B fic, but I'm glad I decided to post this one._

"Who are you, miss?"

"M-my name is Belle. I saw what those men did to you. Are you all right? Would you like me to get you some water?"

He shook his head. "You are kind. Perhaps too kind," he murmured. "The others won't like that."

"And what is your name, sir?" she asked softly.

"_Sir?_, he spat. "Oh, you are a sarcastic one, then? Feigning kindness by pretending to help me, then ridiculing me like the rest of them do?! Aye, you are a cruel one, young lass. Have you had your fun? Leave me!"

Belle stood beside him, shaking, wondering if she could just turn her back on him again.

He glared up at her. "What. Not had enough _fun_ yet? Want to throw dirt in old Spinrum's face? Or spit on me?! Trip me? Kick me? WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"

"I - I j- I w- I - Th-" she stammered. "I wanted to help you," she finally managed to whisper. She turned her head before he could notice the tears. "I'm sorry I bothered you."

He stared after her as she ran away, wondering why the odd girl had approached him.

Zilarha dabbed a cool, damp cloth on Belle's forehead. "You'll return to the present soon enough, dearie. For now, you need to see who he really was. And you'll forget all those times you met me in the past." She smirked. "It's almost too easy to rewrite your memories. As easy as a story book."

Belle stirred. "Wh-" Her eyes fluttered. "What happened?" she murmured.

"A bit too much wine last night, I'm afraid. I didn't think it was safe for you to walk all the way across town, so you rested here and fell asleep."

She blushed. "I - I'm sorry."

"Oh, pish," Zilarha waved off the apology. "No worries. I made some coffee and scones. Best remedy for too much wine the night before. Or so my mother always said. Come on, then, you can get washed up in the downstairs powder room and have a bite before you set about your day." She smiled good-naturedly.

"R-" Belle clutched at her head.

Zilarha helped her sit back down. "It's all right. Take it slowly. I'll go check on things in the bakery and be back to help you if you need me."

Once she was alone, Belle covered her face with her hands. What she had seen had been horrible! She couldn't believe it was real, but part of her knew that it had been. Rumpelstiltskin had been so cold and cynical. He had been completely unable to stand up for himself or even accept a kind word from someone who had just wanted to help him.

She felt as though, now, she understood why he was always to reluctant to give up his power, no matter how evil its origin.

Did she really want to turn him back into that coward? Could she allow him to remain the Dark One?

* * *

><p>Zilarha felt lighter than she had in months. She hummed as she worked. Even Granny noticed it when she delivered the hamburger buns.<p>

"Have you worked out a spell to protect us as we head home?" she asked quietly.

"Not quite," she admitted. "I still have to talk to Regina and coordinate our efforts, but I think we're close."

"Good." The old widow had seen too much to be overly optimistic, but she remained cautiously hopeful.

_That evening_

Regina poured a snifter of brandy for her old friend. "Come, now, Griselda, tell me what Belle was doing at your place last night."

She chuckled. "I needed to make her see what my darling Rum was like before he became the Dark One. She kept insisting she knew the man behind the beast; I merely . . . wanted to make that true."

"Just being helpful."

She raised her glass to clink it with the queen's. "And, now, old friend, do we discuss our journey home or do we banter over more trivial things?"

"Fair enough, _dearie_. I have that vial of Emma's blood from when your daughter's monkeys attacked her. More than enough for the True Love part of the spell."

"And I have the crystal Rum gave me to safeguard our memories when you originally cast the Curse. Plus the cloak my father enchanted for my thirteenth birthday."

"Are you sure it'll be big enough?"

"I told you, it grows to suit the wearer. Or wear_ers_, as the case may be. It expands to cover the shoulders. It's worked before. It'll work now as we need it."

Regina retrieved the scroll they'd so painstakingly written all those years ago by the light of the waxing moon. Oh, how they had laboured over every line, making sure that their intentions were clear and no word could be misconstrued. Nothing had been left to chance that month.

It had worked exactly as they'd planned. And now they would undo it. Twenty-eight years of weaving would be undone in a single night. The night of the full moon was approaching, and that would be when they would enact this new spell.

"This new Esruc will have to be worded even more carefully. I've the first few aznats completed, but you'll have to supply the final."

"Yes, I know. I have to admit, Griselda, I'm surprised you'd trust me with this."

"Who else? We started it. It's only right that we should finish it. And my dear little Zelena is no condition to be a part of this."

"Hmm," she hummed as she sipped the warm liquid. "If she were, this would all be easier, wouldn't it?"

"Not necessarily. All she ever wanted was her family back, and we were here. When Rum sent her back, we knew she'd try again to call us home. And this time, we're helping her help us to get there."

Regina's smooth forehead furrowed with concern. "Does that mean we'll wind up in Oz?"

"I doubt it, but, even if we do -" She fell silent when she heard someone's footsteps outside.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N - 17 January 2015: I'm seriously enjoying writing this story. I'm not sure, though, if I want to wrap it up in just a few chapters or draw it out indefinitely; it would be really easy for me to keep coming up with plot twists, plus there's my version of history in the Enchanted Forest I could explore. Anyway, here's a new chapter. Happy weekend, dearies. _

"Who dares approach?" Griselda demanded from her perch on a branch halfway up a tree.

The young man stumbled over his own feet as he hastily bowed. "F-f-forgive me, your Ladyship, I - I - I come from a village in - in - in G- g- g- geld- geldeburg. We are besieged by ogres who plunder our crops and -"

She held up a hand to silence him. "Ogres. And you wish us to protect you, I take it?"

The lad nodded mutely.

She looked about the forest as though she were bored. "Oh, I suppose we could pay your village a visit . . . What have you to offer us?"

"W- N- That is, we . . . I am sorry, my lady, but all we had of value has been taken from us. All I can offer you is . . . . me . . . That is, I volunteered m-myself to - for servitude." He waited, his hat in his hand, for her response.

"You would give yourself to us, to do with as we wished, to save your people?" she murmured, an eyebrow raised.

Again, he nodded. His eyes had grown progressively wider with every passing moment.

Negotiating with ogres had long been a talent she'd possessed, was even friendly with a few of them, not that she'd admit it publicly. Too many would make demands of her services if they were aware of the diversity of her circle of acquaintances. As it was, they sought her out often enough simply for her association with the Dark One himself.

"I will speak with my lord. You will accompany me to our castle, but you must wait in the room I will take you to."

"Yes, of course, my lady," he sighed with relief.

She pushed herself off of her seat on the tree branch and landed perfectly beside him. Before he could blink, they were in the castle.

"Remember what I said, boy. Remain in this room. Eat. Be comfortable. Rest." She exited the room via a door that disappeared behind her. _'Rum? May I speak with you?'_ she called to him with her mind.

_'Yes, my love. I was about to ask you to join me in entertaining our guest in the tower.'_

"A guest?" she whispered. She quickly made her way up the stairs and was pleasantly surprised to see their old friend Grimwold. "Grimmy! I had no idea you were in the area! How are you?"

He rose to greet the Grey Warrior. "I am well, Grissy! By the twinkling in your eyes, you have a deal brewing, I surmise."

"Ever the perceptive one, you are, to see my emotions so clearly from afar."

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled merrily. "Deal? What deal?"

Griselda conjured a fresh pot of tea and a plate of petits four. "A lad came to find us. Says his village in . . . Where was it? Oh. Geldeburg is under attack. Ogres, he said."

Grimwold scoffed. "We haven't attacked a human village in years! You know that."

She nodded. "I have him waiting in a doorless chamber. He's willing to offer himself to our servitude if we - " she waved a hand about " - deal with the situation."

"Hmm, I wonder what the situation really is?" Rumpelstiltskin mused aloud. "And why would he take such a risk in coming here and lying about it?"

* * *

><p>Regina opened the back door to find Graham standing there with a small parcel.<p>

"Your majesty," he gasped, startled.

"Were you just going to leave that without coming in to say hello?" Regina chided.

"I - I'm sorry. I only didn't wish to be seen."

"By others or by me?" she asked flatly. "Come on. We were having a drink; join us."

He inclined his head and inched past her. "Miss Griselda. Or should I call you Zilarha?"

She smiled up at him, wondering if he remembered much about the time he'd spent as a near-corpse, and patted the seat beside her. "Zilarha is how the rest of Storybrooke knows me. We're all friends here. Just make sure no one else besides Regina hears you call me by my old name."

He couldn't resist running a finger along the loose lock of hair trailing down the side of her face.

Regina cleared her throat and handed him a snifter of brandy. "What's in the package?"

"Ah. It is the jewel you asked me to retrieve from the underground cavern."

She held her hand out to accept it from him and pried open the plain brown paper wrapping. "Was anything disturbed down there? Did it look as though anyone else had been there?"

He shook his head. "No. It looked the same as the first time you showed it to me."

Griselda tilted her head. Something didn't feel quite right about that. "Are you sure? I know that area's cloaked, but . . ."

"Do you really think someone could've gotten through?" Regina was growing concerned.

Griselda shook her head slowly. "It's . . . more of a . . . feeling. Like something isn't quite right about this. I could be worrying over nothing."

Regina shook her head. "I don't like this. We should go see for ourselves to be sure."

"Right. If anyone _has_ been in that part of the woods . . ." Griselda didn't need to finish the thought. Both Graham and Regina understood what it would mean and what they would have to do.


End file.
